


What’s Real?

by Geek_Bean



Series: TMA MCYT Fics [1]
Category: Minecraft (Video Game)
Genre: Dissociation, Mentioned Phil Watson (Video Blogging RPF), Ranboo Angst (Video Blogging RPF), Ranboo-centric (Video Blogging RPF), Spiders, for the love of god read my warnings in the notes, im really bad at tagging shit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-07
Updated: 2021-02-07
Packaged: 2021-03-13 02:59:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,118
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29271369
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Geek_Bean/pseuds/Geek_Bean
Summary: In a desperate attempt to run from his immediate doom, Ranboo finds himself in a cruel domain that only forces him to no longer trust what he perceives to be real and lets his mind melt through the cracks.—Another kind of TMA AU! Once again, you don’t need to know the series to know whats going on, and you can interpret it however you like.(FOR THE LOVE OF GOD READ MY WARNINGS AT THE START! I DON’T WANT TO HURT ANYBODY!)
Relationships: No Romantic Relationship(s)
Series: TMA MCYT Fics [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2149650
Comments: 7
Kudos: 58





	What’s Real?

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! Here’s some warnings:
> 
> \- Spiders (This isn’t the entire fic, if you wanna skip the spider stuff just find where it says “Ranboo was laid on his back, stomping the final creepy crawly trying to get to him that made it past the door.” I underlined the first word to make it easier)  
> \- Not knowing what’s real  
> \- Questioning your thoughts  
> \- Depersonalization/derealization/dissociation (sorry if im using those words wrong)  
> Stay safe and let me know if I need to add more tags!

Ranboo needed  _ out _ . He needed out of this room, he needed away from these spiders, from this damn  _ web _ . The stone walls of his comfort room were beginning to get less comforting, and the stares of the hundreds of little eyes belonging to the dozens of spiders trapping him below the ground. He needed to  _ scream _ , he didn’t care for who; Phil, Techno, a passing enderman, hell, even a creeper finding its way down here would help him! But for some reason he couldn’t, despite the fear tightening his throat and causing his long limbs to shake and stopping him from breathing, he just  _ couldn’t fucking move _ . He could feel disgusting little legs crawling at his heels and a cobweb weaving itself in his hair, but he  _ couldn’t move _ . The manipulative taunt of Dream’s voice echoed in his head, drowning out any noise that may have been made outside of his shack, and even the sound of his rabbit just a few feet away. He wanted to crumple to the floor like he’d done time and time again, but something that wasn’t  _ him _ was holding him upright, keeping his back straight in better posture than he could ever recall standing in.

Every instinct in his mind was screaming at him to run as more tiny legs gathered at his feet, but no matter how hard he strained his body to  _ move _ he  _ couldn’t _ . He felt the cobwebs begin to gather at his feet as well, webs being spun faster than he could process it and pinning him to the floor and starting to drag him down with them and all he could do was panic and feel dizzy and feel as the world suddenly shifted around him and an intense feeling of vertigo set in and-

A  _ vwoop _ echoed through the small room as Ranboo suddenly stumbled, feeling his limbs suddenly moving under  _ his _ command as his actions became his own again. His eyes darted up to the trapdoor leading out, crying out in panic when he saw the thick cobwebs covering it. He backed up further noticing the spiders only adjusting to his new spot and skittering closer, the familiar tense feeling washing over his limbs as he grew stiffer and the damned voice called to him again. His hand landed on the wall behind him - or what  _ should have been _ a wall - and felt a doorknob in his grasp. He didn’t stop to think of the fact that there were no doors down here, all he knew was he was running from the immediate threat. Without a second thought or hesitation he pushed it open, falling through and immediately kicking it closed from the rough spot on the ground he landed on. The door shut with a  _ slam _ , also accompanied by the familiar sound of spiders being killed by the force. 

Ranboo was laid on his back, stomping the final creepy crawly trying to get to him that made it past the door. He stared up at it, a bright yellow door that was a shade he never could recall seeing before (though, what  _ could _ he recall?). He let out a final shaky sigh, sprawling out on the cool floor for a brief moment. He thought about what had just happened.. Hearing the Dream voice out of the blue whilst petting Ranbun and suddenly freezing under the hundreds of tiny stares from spiders he had no idea existed, then escaping through the door. It was already blurring together in his memory and he knew it’d be completely gone soon enough unless he wrote it down (he wasn’t sure he  _ wanted _ to remember, though). Ranbun, Dream, spiders, door..  _ door. _

It finally occurred to him he’d gone through a door that  _ wasn’t _ supposed to be there.

He shot up and snapped his eyes open (when did he close them?), looking around in a panic for a moment. He instantly noticed the door was missing and rose to his feet, feeling joints pop as he did so. Wherever the door took him, it had to be some kind of cruel fucking joke.

The walls were made of pure obsidian with signs littering the walls and ceiling in a spiraling pattern, each with different messages he recognized. 

_ You are fine. _

_   
_ _ Dream is the reason. _

_ Don’t choose a side, choose people. _

Without thinking, he began to walk, reading the signs as he went. Whoever set this up had to be some..  _ Jerk _ with too much time on their hands. Maybe Fundy.

At the end of the corridor there was a mirror on one of the walls. He looked into it, and saw the familiar black-and-white teenager staring back. The same face he’d seen since he was thrown into this world. 

It was only then, as he began pulling out the cobwebs tangled in his hair, that he noticed a steady drip of water from the ceiling as a droplet landed on his nose with a quiet  _ hiss _ noise on his nose, making him flinch backwards and wipe his face. He continued walking, reading the signs again as he walked past. He reached the mirror again, continuing to fix his hair over his green colored eyes.

.. Something was wrong. What was it?

He kept walking, finally thinking to reach for his communicator. He could just check his coords and call for someone to pick him up! He passed another sign, repeating the same message again like a broken record.  _ I am fine. _

His spirits were quickly broken by the fact that the device he kept stored in his pockets was completely wrecked by heavy cobwebs woven carefully through every bit of wiring in the thing. Almost like it was meant to deliberately destroy it, and that those spiders  _ knew  _ what they were doing.

Whatever.

He continues walking, continuing to walk past his reflection on his right and turning to the left for a short while before he suddenly stops at the start of a corridor. 

Was he going in a circle?

No, no, that’s impossible. There was no other path to go when he got here other than straight ahead. There would’ve been another corridor connecting to it if that were the case.

...But these tunnels are all the same length and just turn  _ left _ . He’d have to be going in a circle for it to make any sense!

Maybe he was miscounting the length of these tunnels. He’ll just.. Count the steps he’s taking down each one!

_ 1 _

_ 2 _

_ 3 _

_ 4 _

_ 5 _

_ (A sign reads “Tommy is the reason.”) _

_ 6 _

_ 7 _

_ 8 _

_ 9 _

_ 10 _

_ 11 _

_ 12. _

Twelve paces! Which means that the next tunnel would  _ have _ to be less.

_ 1 _

_ 2 _

_ 3 _

_ 4 _

_ 5 _

_ 6 _

_ 7 _

_ 8 _

_ (A sign reads “Pick your side, not the people.”) _

_ 9 _

_ 10 _

_ 11 _

_ 12..? _

Ranboo stops in his tracks, staring down the next corridor, then back to the one behind him.

.. No, no, that’s impossible, maybe he’s just taking shorter steps. He’ll just try again. 

_ 1 _

_ 2 _

_ 3 _

_ 4 _

_ (A sign reads “You will be okay.”) _

_ 5 _

_ 6 _

_ 7 _

_ 8 _

_ 9 _

_ 10 _

_ 11 _

_ 12…. _

Ranboo stops again in concern. Something wasn’t right, aside from his footsteps.  _ What _ is it?

_ 1 _

_ 2 _

_ 3 _

_ 4 _

_ 5 _

_ 6 _

_ (A sign reads “Don’t worry, it’s okay.”) _

_ 7 _

_ 8 _

_ 9 _

_ 10 _

_ 11 _

_ …… _

Twelve. He’s starting to hate that number.

He huffs, determined to make these hallways make sense. He puts his heel against the wall, and then his heel to his toe. He can’t change this length.

_ 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18.. _

_ (A sign reads “Don’t pick. Stay out of it.”) _

_ 19, 20, 21, 22, 23, 24, 25, 26, 27, 28, 29, 30, 31, 32, 33, 34, 35, 36, 37, 38, 39, 40, 41, 42, 43, 44, 45, 46, 47, 48. _

48 of his shoe lengths long!

He started again, a sort of hope swelling in his chest that he wasn’t losing it. 

_ 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18, 19, 20, 21, 22, 23, 24, 25, 26, 27, 28, 29, 30, 31, 32, 33, 34, 35, 36, 37, 38, 39, 40, 41, 42, 43, 44, 45… _

_ (A sign reads “You are the reason.”) _

_ 46, 47… _

..No.

It couldn’t be 48 again. 

Ranboo sighed shakily as he planted his foot down on the ground, solidifying the number.

He was in a corridor that shouldn’t make  _ any _ sense, because there’s no way this could work if his starting point only had one way to go. He kept walking, feeling a  _ too _ familiar feeling of detachment from himself. He passed a sign. It read, “ **You are fucked.** ”

He stopped in his tracks after reading that, stepping back a few paces to see the sign again.

“ **You are screwed.** ”

..What?

He kept walking, thinking to himself. He didn’t remember ever  _ using _ language like that. Sure, he’d think it sometimes, but it wasn’t..  _ Him _ to swear. These were supposed to be the signs in his panic room, right? It’d have to be things he’d write, it just made  _ sense _ ! Then.. The switch of words? Has it always been doing that?

He kept walking, turning another corner down another line of signs. 

One read “ **You’re screwed.** ”

.. Was it you’re or you are?

He continued walking, though it was smarter to turn back around. He wasn’t sure where his reasoning was, if he was honest.

Another hallway, more signs. He approached the sign again, reading its message.

“ **You’re screwed, Ranboo.** ”

Was the Ranboo there last time?

This cycle seemed to just continue. He’d move on to the next set of signs, then forget what the first said. It drove him nuts, why couldn’t he  _ remember _ !?

It took an embarrassingly long time to remember the leather bound book in his sweater pocket. He slowly reached in to pull it out, staring at the “ _ RETURN TO RANBOO”  _ inscribed on top. He could just write what the sign said and check with the next sign!   
  


He wished.

Instead when he flipped the book open the pages turned up blank for a moment, before suddenly vanishing from his hands before he could even process it was in them in the first place. 

He was holding something. What had just been in his hand? He  _ knew  _ he was holding something. Where did it go?

He stared down at.. The hands for a long while. They shook slightly, he didn’t know why. It looked like there was supposed to be some kind of silhouette in them, holding something up. And when he blinked again the hands he stared at were gone, and he looked back up at the obsidian walls.

Were they closing in..?

He couldn’t bring himself to think anymore. He just felt his mind slip between the cracks, playing the events like a movie he was watching at a distance rather than experiencing. He felt the adrenaline he was supposed to when walls were closing in, but not in the way he should have. It felt like he was just waiting for what weird thing would happen next, and that no matter what would happen to the characters on screen he could walk out fine. 

The body he watched moved robotically, finally reaching the end of the 12-paces-hallway. And then it did something he hadn’t done since he arrived. It looked in the mirror.

What stared back was a monster. A monster in a sweater that draped far too largely over its shoulders and stretched below its torso. It’s face seemed too distorted to properly process, something that couldn’t be perceived by the normal eye.

Was this.. Him?

…

What was his name?

It stared at itself in the mirror for a long time. It could’ve been years, and he’d believe it.

It stared, and stared, and stared, and stared. 

Until suddenly it wasn’t the only thing in the mirror. 

Appearing as quickly as the book vanished, something appeared behind it. It was tall, too tall to be human, but it wasn’t an enderman either (how would he know though? He didn’t know anything anymore). It’s fingers stretched out in a disgusting way, reaching across the hallway with a sideways smile that scared him enough to suddenly process his own body and reflection.

That was him. He was the enderman hybrid in the suit in the mirror. Wait, suit?

A deep chuckle echoed through the hallway, snapping him to attention once again.

Green, white, smiles.. Why was he scared?  _ Scared _ ? Is that the tight feeling in his chest?

Before his brain caught up with his actions he was running down the obsidian halls with damp floors, pursued by the being trying to catch him but almost  _ letting  _ him keep running for the fun of the chase. He kept running and running until his legs protested and began to give out, and yet the halls showed no sign of stopping. He stared at the mirror at the end of the hallway, seeing himself in the eyes - the mismatched, green and red eyes - before colliding with it.

Or, he should’ve collided with it. Instead, he fell over somewhere completely new. There was no  _ vwoop _ or purple particles to accompany it, just.. Appearing somewhere new. Very loudly, might he add, as his body weight collided with the hardwood floors he landed on. He groaned, his head spinning wildly with thoughts, questions, and vertigo, all interrupted by a shout of surprise.

“Ranboo! Mate!”

That voice, it’s familiar.

Suddenly the teens being lifted up, a grunt in his ear as he’s moved to a couch against a wall.

Where was he?

“Where have you been!?”

That voice, again. Could he even see..?

Slowly his sight began to process in his head, looking around the room in confusion. Its wood, there’s chests lining the back wall, and there’s a fireplace in the corner.

He knew this place..

Where was that voice?   
  


He looked around with wide eyes, looking for the man who’d spoken to him. Did he imagine that too?

Suddenly the creaks of ladders were heard and blonde hair peeked from the floor below (since when was there a ladder here?), carrying a few supplies in his pale arms.

What was he doing here?   
  


Suddenly gold glistening carrots (how did he know what they were?) were shoved into his hands, followed by a stern “ _ Eat _ .”

Eat. Eat, eat, eat…

Eyes burned into his head as he stared down at the food, reminding him of a memory he’d long lost. Slowly he raised it to his mouth, taking an unsure bite of it. Then suddenly, with the force of a truck, hunger slammed into him and he began to scarf down carrot after carrot until he burned through an entire stack, feeling like he could eat another and still not feel anywhere  _ near _ full.

He finally brought his attention to the sound of something brewing when he went to ask for more, noticing the man staring him down. 

“What happened to you, Ranboo..?” He asked quietly, met with a questioning look.

“I..-” The enderman began, his voice cracking painfully out of his throat as if it had been the first time he’d used it in his life. “..What?”

“What do you mean what!?” He raised his voice, but not in an angry tone and more out of.. Something. Not malicious. At least, that’s what he thinks. Can he trust what he thinks? “You’ve been missing for  _ weeks _ !”

Weeks? That’s a long time, right..?

Ranboo stares blankly, his thoughts scattered so painfully that all he can utter is a soft “Oh..”

The man sighs shakily, sitting down next to Ranboo. He stares at him intensely, and all he can do is try to remember what he once meant to him. 

“I’m.. sorry. I don’t remember,” He whispers with tightly intertwined fingers. “I don’t remember  _ anything _ . Who am I?”   
  
Was he real? Was any of this real? Had he just gone mad, and this was some figment of his imagination he created while trapped in the obsidian hallways because he couldn’t handle the continuing spiral of it all?

The man’s response was muffled to him, and he felt the world around him start to spin as he fell deeper into his own mind. He could feel his body lean forward into green robes, and then in what felt like a blink of an eye he was on the hard floor again, being propped up by..  _ him _ . What’s his name? He knew him!

His gaze slipped between him and the ceiling above him, trying to figure out what just happened. He’s shouting something, but it falls on practically deaf ears.

He’s slowly lifted from the ground again, this time being placed onto the couch laying down. The cottage was warm, warmer than the corridors he’d been in for the last — what did the blonde say, weeks? Was it true, or was it something that’d change without him realizing again?

He didn’t notice he was thinking out loud until he got a response. “Yeah, you’ve been gone for almost a month. 3 and a half weeks, I think.”

He blinked slowly at the ceiling again. 

“I’m Phil. We’re in the Arctic Commune right now, in Techno’s cottage. Your shacks outside, it’s been abandoned for three weeks, and we’ve had to clear cobwebs from it.”

Phil.

Techno.

The commune, his shack,  _ cobwebs _ .

They all sparked some kind of memory, but it was just barely out of reach to him, and it was infinitely frustrating. 

His eyes slowly slid shut, trying to calm the spinning of the room again. A gentle hand planted itself on his shoulder, and all he could give was a distressed garble. A garble that didn’t sound human.

(Shit, was he that monster he saw in those hallways?)

He didn’t notice, but his hands lifted from the sides of the couch to the air in front of him, trying to grab something that wasn’t there. The hand on his shoulder disappeared, and he began to wonder if it was ever there.

After some amount of time, he didn’t know how long, something was placed in the space between his hands. He jumped and opened his eyes, looking up at the two colored object. 

_ Brown and green. Grass block. _

He wasn’t entirely sure what that meant, but he remembered it regardless. The brown part was soft and squishy, and the green was somewhat prickly against his skin. He felt his muscles relax, though he didn’t remember tensing them, and pulled the block closer, letting his eyes slip shut in content this time. All he could think about was his  _ grass block _ .

Phil stared at the now sleeping boy, wondering. Had his claws always been that long?

**Author's Note:**

> i stayed up until 4am writing this in call with my friend .
> 
> remember! you are a real person and this is a work of fiction!
> 
> The inspiration for this was MAG 47 from TMA, if you want to give it a listen! You can also look up The Spiral for the fan wiki and it’ll give you more episodes and explanations.


End file.
